


The Second Mrs Rogers

by Nellblazer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Dark, Butlers, Dark Steve, Dark Steve Rogers, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gothic, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Period-Typical Sexism, Rebecca AU, Smut, Thriller, dark bucky, dark bucky barnes, mansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 17:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: After a whirlwind marriage to millionaire widower Steve Rogers in Monte Carlo, you return to his stately home at Brooklyn Bay. The cracks start to show, however, as you deal with Mr Barnes, the butler who despises you and the question of what happened to the first Mrs Rogers…*Please do not replicate my work without my express permission*
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 122
Kudos: 242





	1. Brooklyn Bay

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mild smut
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

Last night I dreamed I was in Brooklyn Bay again.

I can see the stark silhouette of his mansion, so dense and black against the whispering of the orange and red in the sky. I could see the gnarled trees reaching upwards as if to pull the building down to the very foundations.

I'm haunted by that scream, the scream of pure despair, of knowing when a person's time has come and I awake in a cold sweat, shaking and wondering if I shall ever be free of that hideous place or if I'm doomed to be forever bound into its tapestry of tragedy.

* * *

**

I met Steve Rogers in Monte Carlo when I was at the peak of my naivety, when girls still cling to notions of romance and courtly station and have not experienced enough heartbreak to know better.

He was charming, handsome and had that easy confidence one would expect from a man of his years. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was me. He made that very clear from the first moment we met.

He took me dancing, he wined and dined me in fine restaurants and afterwards we'd walk along the beach, observing the yachts as they serenely sailed on the midnight ocean. Steve was always a perfect gentleman, never pushing the limits of our courtship but letting me know he wanted to all the same.

It was simple to fall in love with him.

By the time my month's wellness had come to an end, he was morose at the prospect of losing me and flew into a fit of tears on my final night, proclaiming that the world did not want him to be happy. It was then, just before nine o'clock that he disappeared from my side and I thought him to be distancing himself to save face.

How wrong I was.

Shortly before eleven, he returned, crazed with passion as he proposed immediately upon entering the bar. He professed his great love for me, that he could not bear for me to return home and never see me again. I had to be his wife and that god be damned I stoked a fire in his soul that not even his departed former spouse had done.

Faced with these words, I did what I believed to be right. I accepted.

They cheered for us in that bar, they handed us expensive champagne and we laughed and danced until the sun came up.

That morning I sent word to my family, in our holiday home in St Roman, of my intentions to marry Steve. It did not take long for my father to agree. In his eyes, Steve was a fine match, wealthy and not frivolous with it. A widower Steve may be but it didn't dampen his appeal to my mother who simply warned me not to try to live up to the first Mrs Rogers' shadow.

We were married that evening in the African Gardens. I hadn't time for an extravagant gown but Steve paid no mind, beaming at me the whole way through the ceremony.

I was now the second Mrs Rogers.

On our wedding night, we scampered like naughty children, hiding from the prying eyes of the elite of Monte Carlo. Steve did not care for a traditional bedding and we made our union official on the promenade, my back against a palm tree and the might of the Mediterranean behind me.

I finally learned what it was to be a woman and from that moment on, it awakened a great thirst inside me, desperate for the intimacy Steve so freely gave whenever we had a spare moment of peace in the next few days.

I distinctly remember Steve rutting with such urgency into me as I was pinned against the wall of some quaint alleyway, failing at containing myself as he drew noises from my lips that would make nuns blush and faint in horror. When the sound of a door opened down the alley, we hastily withdrew from one another and fled, the thrill of almost being caught guiding our laughter as we dissolved into giggling once back on the main street.

Some two weeks after our wedding day, Steve announced he was taking me back to his ancestral home of Brooklyn Bay and I packed my things and said my goodbyes to my family.

The journey was long across the Atlantic, the boat doing nothing to calm my upset condition as I fought the unbalanced feeling I had whenever waves crossed its path. I remarked to Steve that I would never be a sailor but he seemed to find my delicate sensibilities almost endearing and took delight in nursing me to some form of health back in our room.

I really believed I had found the perfect man, that my notions of romance were true.

Truly I was too naïve.

**

We reached Brooklyn Bay after a week of travel and he was eager to show me his home.

The great sprawling household reminded me of old English mansions with their stone facades, creeping ivy and lead crossed windows. Perhaps it had even been designed that way, a splash of continental elegance in an up and coming metropolis.

He took my bags to the oak double doors and unlocked them, pushing them open to reveal such opulence that it stole my breath away. I had never asked him about his finances, though I knew him to be well off. It appeared he was, in fact, obscenely rich.

“I hope you will call this home very soon,” he took my hands. “I want us to be happy here. Do you think you can be happy here, sweetheart?”

“It's wonderful,” I marvelled at the luxury before me. “I hope I am worthy of it.”

“Nonsense,” he smiles that charming smile. “You are my wife, you belong here. Come, the butler will take care of our luggage. Let me show you our room where we shall start our married life.”

He takes me up a winding set of stairs and I glance at an oil painting on the mid landing. It strikes me in particular for its sheer size but also for the forlorn expression of its painted occupant. A woman with curled brown hair, tawny eyes and rosebud lips wearing a grand ballgown of deepest burgundy.

“Who is this woman?” I ask.

“Peggy,” for the first time Steve's tone is sharp as he addresses me, almost a harsh bark. “My former wife. Take care not to mention her again. I do not like to speak of it.”

“Of course, my love. I was only curious,” I apologise hastily, not wanting to bring down the elated mood and flinching at his loud volume.

“Forgive me,” his eyes soften. “It's hard for me to reminisce on her, nor do I want to. I want to celebrate the woman in front of me, not dwell on the spectre of ghosts. Now follow me.”

I look at the painting for a few moments more, wondering why she seemed in such despair but I shook it from my mind and joined my husband in the marital bed.

**

The next morning, Steve had business to attend to and left me to run the household.

I’d not seen hide nor hair of the butler since my arrival though he must be around since my luggage was neatly unpacked in the laundry room.

I made myself breakfast before taking a novel out into the garden and soaking in the rays of the morning sun, enjoying the warmth that bathed me utterly. It was not until noon that I decided to explore the house, to familiarise myself with its secrets.

The grandness and the emptiness of the place melded into a sense of oppressive silence as I crept along its corridors, keen not to break the strange tension it created. Every footfall was magnified tenfold until it made me giddy with nerves.

It was just a house and yet, it was this slumbering being that would wake at any moment and chaos would spew forth.

I found guest rooms, linen closets, a dumb waiter and two bathrooms before my hand closed on the handle of a door that seemed more polished than the rest, more looked after.

It didn't open. I tried the handle again but it wouldn't move.

“That room is off limits, madam.”

I jump in fright, clutching my chest to still my bouncing heartbeat as I see a man at the end of the hallway, pristine suit and neatly combed hair. He didn't look much older than Steve and where Steve was fair and bright, this man was dark and a shadow hung in his eyes as he met my gaze.

“Off limits?” I ask. “Why?”

“That is the lady Peggy's room. It has been locked to preserve the memory of her under Mr Rogers' instruction. I'm afraid you cannot enter.”

“Her memory,” I murmur, the pull of curiosity now eating away at me. “Of course, naturally. A man should revere his lady wife, even in death.”

“Quite, madam. If you'll come away from there, I'll show you to the dining hall. Mr Rogers was keen for you to view it before his return. He plans a ball when the winter is at its zenith.”

“Who are you?” I ask dumbly.

“My apologies,” his mouth quirks into something befitting arrogance before he rearranges it. “I am Mr Barnes, Mr Rogers' butler.”

“And _my_ butler now,” I add.

A momentary flash of distaste that I’m not sure was imagined or not, “Yes, it would appear I am that also. This way, madam.”

I didn't like Mr Barnes. Something about his character made me uneasy. Perhaps it was the way his shrewd gaze seemed to assess and pick me apart or perhaps it was his blatant lack of respect for my station as Steve's wife. Either way, I would corral it out of him in the end.

As I passed the painting of Peggy, I stopped again, struck by the sudden notion to ask even this cantankerous butler the burning question in my mind.

“Why is she so sad?”

Mr Barnes turns around to see me staring at the artwork before coming to my side, hands neatly clasped in front of him, “My lady Peggy was very despondent in the months before her death. I tried what I could to cheer her mood but it fell upon deaf ears. Mr Rogers.......that is not my tale to tell, madam.”

“Please,” I place a hand on his arm and he jerks it away unceremoniously. “Steve won't tell me anything about her.”

“With good reason,” Mr Barnes' fiercely sparkling eyes seem to make me wither on the spot. “Because you will never live up to her. Peggy Rogers was perfection and you are a mere pastiche. Mr Rogers will understand that soon and he shall be sorry he ever....”

He trails off, smirking heavily before walking down the stairs again and leaving me in a state of paralysed shock at his biting words.

When had a servant ever been so insolent!

“Come back here at once!” I cry out, enraged at the blow he had dealt my ego and baited by the open-endedness of his comments about Steve, the insinuation he'd done something to Peggy at one time.

“I'm sorry, madam but I _am_ on a schedule,” Mr Barnes looks over his shoulder at me. “I have lunch to prepare for when Mr Rogers returns. The tour shall be brief.”

“I don't care for your tone,” I draw level with him. “Never use it with me again.”

“Very good,” his face is devoid of emotion. “This way.”

I almost cry with happiness when Steve walks in the door.

**

“I'll speak with him,” Steve assures me, as his hand reaches across the table for mine. “It's unacceptable.”

“I don't know why he was so caustic.”

Steve sighs, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand gently, “James was always incredibly loyal to Peggy. I believe it struck him particularly hard when she passed. Pay it no mind, I'll deal with the situation. I won't have you being upset. He'll grow to love you as he did her.”

I wasn’t so sure though. If Peggy really was such a perfect woman then would I ever truly be free of her influence in my life?

“Thank you, husband,” I take a gulp of wine. “Would you come to bed with me?”

“It's three in the afternoon, dear.”

“Not for sleep,” I arch my eyebrows until realisation dawns in his face.

“My sweet wife, I am blessed,” he smiles wickedly before abandoning his half eaten meal and taking me up the stairs.

As he made love to me, the closeness and the intimacy gave me the security I was craving. It didn't matter what Mr Barnes had said, Steve had chosen _me,_ he loved _me._ The butler would just have to come to terms with that.

As Steve dozed off for a nap beside me, exhausted and sated, my mind cast back to what had been said on the stairs, in the shadow of Peggy Roger's painting.

“ _Mr Rogers will understand that soon and he shall be sorry he ever....”_

He ever...what? What exactly had Steve done?

The more I thought about it, the more my mind whirled with doubts and fears and the cloying fact that stuck to my bones.

Did I really know _anything_ about the man I had married? Were two months long enough to truly get the measure of a person?

And what exactly _had_ happened to Peggy Rogers?


	2. The Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Barnes continues his campaign against you and Steve invites a guest to Brooklyn Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Domestic Abuse mentions, 1920s values, Dubcon
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- TLP xx

My opinion of Mr Barnes did not improve over the following days.

He made sure to refer back to Peggy at every possible opportunity when Steve was away from the manor house, striking me down with scathing comparisons during my more independent moments of gardening and decoration. Nothing I did was ever up to standard, nothing I did ever measured up to her spectre.

I am not proud to admit that, in a fit of frustration, I unduly swore at Mr Barnes and stamped my foot like a child might, demanding that he stop with his insistent denigration of my character.

To this he simply employed that infuriating smirk and walked off, leaving me feeling like I had lost all control of the situation. He had won.

Upon one particular morning, after I'd kissed Steve goodbye, I began making a flower arrangement to brighten my spirits. I had so loved making them as a young girl. Twisting vines around long stalks calmed my nerves that had been dashed to pieces under the butler's care.

I chose bright Bluestars entwined with bursting Mountain Laurels and spiky Azaleas, a soft pastel grouping that reminded me of the shades of houses I had once seen in Italy. That was a happier time in my life.

“Mr Rogers prefers lilies and English roses,” Mr Barnes says curtly as he passes.

“Well this is not _for_ Mr Rogers,” you remark sharply.

“Blue and orange.....rather gauche,” he tuts, setting the table for luncheon.

“I don't believe I asked for your opinion.”

“I volunteered it ma'am,” he lays cutlery down. “You might try lilacs. The colours compliment each other better.”

“This is a Mediterranean style.”

“Thank heavens it hasn't reached America then.”

“Mr Barnes, that will be quite enough of that,” I snap.

“Mrs Rogers trusted my judgement. There were never any complaints with the standards of my work and my intuitions.”

I bristled at that, yet another comparison, “Your work is impeccable Mr Barnes but your countenance is not and may I remind you that _I_ am Mrs Rogers now.”

“For now,” he smiles pleasantly but the effect is alarming. “Mr Rogers will soon see you are a flash in the pan, something to fill his lonely days. You haven't the breeding for a life like this.”

“And _she_ did?”

“Peggy was everything you will never be.”

“Just you wait until I tell Steve,” I was angrier than I had ever been, close to striking him across his arrogant face.

“By all means, Ma'am,” he politely shrugs. “I apologise for sharing my many years of floristry experience.”

I left before I did something I would regret. I refused to come out of the bedroom until Steve had to find me, still seething in the bay window seat whilst I stared at the grounds outside.

“Darling?” he calls to me when I don't immediately turn around.

“Yes?”

“What's troubling you? Is it Mr Barnes again?”

I wanted to have the moral high ground, to be able to rise above the butler's barbed commentary but upon Steve's worried expression, my resolve crumbled and I wept. I wept and I recounted the horrible things that had been said to me.

“My love, you are such a sensitive spirit,” he brushes my tears away. “You must remember it has been a long year of solitude between him and I and he is set in his ways. The man is resistant to change this quickly but he will fall in line. Give it time. Can you do that for me, my darling?”

“Steve, I don't think he'll ever fall in line.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffs. “Give him three months and if his temperament towards you has not improved then I will issue him with a dismissal notice. Is that fair?”

My heart lifted. Three months. I could survive three months.

“That's fair. Thank you.”

Steve kisses me warmly and I'm reminded of our heady days in Monte Carlo. They seem so long ago now. I'm wistful for those long nights spent on the beach.

“Now, we have a guest. Put your face back on and meet me downstairs. There's my girl,” he smiles charmingly.

“A guest? Who is it?”

“An old friend, Anthony Stark. He's helping me plan the gala. Remember to bring your best smile now.”

He leaves me to wipe the remnants of my misery away, plastering a false mask on with a swipe of lipstick as I rearranged my hair and practised smiling in the mirror. The effect was passable but in truth, I wanted to stay in the room so it did not reach my eyes wholly.

When I rejoined Steve downstairs, he was talking with a shorter man with a shock of dark hair and an easy sense of appeal. This was a man who would be everyone's friend, I decided.

“Ah this must be your good lady wife!” Anthony cries upon seeing me descend the stairs. “And such a beautiful young thing too. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you also Anthony,” the grin comes naturally as he kisses the back of my hand.

“Tony, please,” he inclines his head. “So how are you finding Brooklyn?”

“I regret that I've not explored much of it, though I should like to.”

“Perhaps Steve will let you out one day and I can show you the city,” Tony nudges Steve who seems mildly exasperated.

“When she's settled,” Steve admonishes. “Don't overwhelm the poor girl. Being in your company is challenging enough.”

“Ever so polite, isn't he?” Tony winks.

In the background, I see Mr Barnes dusting the ornamental vases, shooting me occasional looks of distaste.

“A perfect gentleman,” I reply.

“Very nice floral arrangement,” Tony points to your presentation. “Mediterranean, am I correct? Always loved their fondness for vividness.”

“Thank you,” I grin, feeling vindicated.

I meet Mr Barnes' eyes and were I not so proud of myself, I would've found the gaze to be terrifying in its hatred. As it was, I had managed to create a talking point and a good one at that. Perhaps I was more suited to manor life than I thought.

“I feel it's terribly important to amalgamate fashions of other cultures sometimes. Styles do come and go awfully fast but tradition remains.”

“Spoken like a learned woman,” Tony nods. “I'm impressed, Steve. She's very different from Peggy.”

At the mention of Peggy's name, Steve stiffens dreadfully and clears his throat, “What do you mean?”

“Peggy was very lively, of course,” Tony explains. “A true party host and she could tell you a few off colour jokes to boot. Surely you remember how everyone would laugh whenever they visited here?”

“I don't remember. It's so long ago,” the answer is stilted, forced.

“Come along, Steve, she was the life and soul of any grouping,” Tony frowns. “All I'm saying is that _this_ young lady seems very quiet by comparison, though that is no bad thing, my dear. I dare say Steve needs some quiet in his life but I should hope at this gala that you will let your proverbial hair down, dear girl.”

“I might,” I answer succinctly without committing to anything.

“Yes, we can discuss arrangements for the gala in my study,” I could see that Steve is desperately trying to keep a veneer of indifference. “Go ahead, Tony. I'll just ask Mr Barnes to fetch us some provisions.”

He waits until Tony has gone through the door before turning to you and the mask of politeness drops, “Take a plate and go to our room. I don't want you down here until he's gone, understand me?”

“Why?”

I feel like I'm being dismissed, that I'm not close enough to be in on the secret of his past. The way he keeps reacting to her name is making me suspicious that he is still not over her death, that I am, indeed, a placeholder as Mr Barnes suggests.

“Tony is too crude. I don't want you to be offended when you're already in a delicate state,” he grabs my shoulders a little too hard.

“Or do you just not want me hearing too many things,” I stand my ground.

“What would you hear exactly? Hmm?”

“About _her_.”

I had done it now. The life in Steve's eyes suddenly dulled and a shadow fell across his face. The man I knew and loved disappeared in an instant to be replaced by something nightmarish as he backed me into the wall, caging me there.

“I said you weren't to speak of her,” his voice is a low growl. “And yet you _insist_ on petty jealousy. Are you not my wife? Are you?!”

“I am,” I cannot stop my bottom lip from trembling and I know I look weak in this moment.

“Does that not show you that I love you? Damned's sake woman!” his hands are curling into fists either side of me. “I'll let this pass considering your issues with my butler currently but if I ever hear you speak of her again, there will be consequences.”

“Can I not ask my questions so I never have to speak of her?” my self destructive urges keep pushing. “You've never confided in me about _anything_ to do with her. I don't even know how she passed.”

For a moment I thought he would strangle me. His hand hovered over my throat as his face contorted with rage before he decided against it, instead lowering his palm across my jaw to hold my gaze.

“Then ask,” comes the harsh response.

“How did she die, Steve?”

“A sailing accident. She loved to go out on the bay in her yacht and got caught in a storm. Her ship was lost beneath the waves and her body was never recovered. I buried an empty casket. Does that satisfy you now? Do you revel in my pain?”

I believed myself to be the worst wife in existence at that moment. Her passing was still evidently raw for him and to have no definitive closure....

“Forgive me,” you whisper. “I didn't know.”

“Nor did you need to but I could see you would not let this go. Now go upstairs and wait for me to return and I shall see how sorry you truly are then.”

He released me and, ashamedly, I fled. I fled upstairs, past the leering portrait of Peggy and into the east wing which housed our room, flinging myself through the door and trying to stifle my sobs.

“I really didn't think you would have troubles so soon,” Mr Barnes is in the room, dusting the mantelpiece of the fire.

“Get out,” I hiss, feeling violated that he would be in here, even though he was just doing his work.

“Of course, Ma'am,” he stows the duster in a bag before moving to the door where I am.

Just before he leaves, he moves close to me, causing me to shrink back against a wall once more but this time I'm more afraid of his intentions than Steve's anger.

Mr Barnes is a hair's breadth away from me and I can feel his warm breath on the side of my face as he leans in and I turn away.

“You look like Peggy did that day before she went to the bay. So sad, so hopeless. Run away. Run away little girl before you meet the same end that she did.”

“I'm not a sailor, Mr Barnes. I won't be getting on any yachts.”

“Is that what he told you?” his lips are almost on my cheek, brushing against my ear with his words. “My dear lady Peggy who was more practised at sailing than most of the Navy? That she would go on the water knowing a storm was brewing? Does that seem likely?”

I fall silent because no, I believe that is very much _not_ likely. The idea comes to me though about Peggy's morose disposition.

“If she didn't intend to survive, then yes,” I fire back. “Now get out and if I catch you making slanderous accusations against my husband again, I'll-”

“-You'll what?” his body is against mine and I can feel the unwelcome heat from it. “You'll order Steve to sack me? He won't do it because _I_ know his secret.”

“Which is?”

“Now isn't that a question.”

He moves back, only far enough so that his nose was almost touching mine and I wondered if he might kiss me from the hungry look in his eyes. There was a moment of tension where I was paralysed, frozen under his predatory gaze and just when I thought I might have to scream, he moved away and through into the corridor.

My breath came back in one swoop, my chest heaving with emotion before I leapt onto the bed and cocooned myself in the darkness of the covers, hoping they would protect me from the world.

The more Mr Barnes spoke on the matter of Steve, the more doubts were setting in and I couldn't shake the memory of Steve's angry face mingling with Mr Barnes' rapacious one. Mr Barnes had never shown the slightest bit of interest in coming near me and that had suited me fine but he had crossed the line of professionalism just now and I didn't know what to do.

It took hours before Steve finally came to bed and the room had long since gone dark. I hadn't moved in all that time.

“Wife,” his voice was gruff, an edge of whisky to it and he dragged the covers off of me.

His touch was rough, uncaring and, as he loomed over me, I could smell the alcohol and cigars wafting from his body as he shoved my skirts back and undid his trousers.

“Steve-” I try to protest, pushing at his shoulders.

“You're supposed to be showing me how sorry you are,” he growls, completely drunk by the way he's swaying over me. “Do your duty, wife.”

And I submit. It _is_ my duty to please my husband, even if it hurts, even if there is no love in the action.

I am Mrs Rogers now, for better or worse and those worse times were taking hold fast.


	3. The Weeds in Our Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hide from Mr Barnes but you have to come out of your room eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non-Con, Guilt
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- TLP xx

Over the coming weeks, I became something of a hermit.

Whenever I was left alone in the house, I would hide in the safety of the bedroom, unwilling to venture any further in case I came across Mr Barnes.

His closeness to me that day had disturbed me greatly and I no longer knew the lines of mistress and servant. I had completely lost control.

Mr Barnes still brought me food but he left it at my door. Sometimes I thought I could hear him laughing softly to himself and once I caught him uttering the phrase,

“Scared foolish girl.”

That prompted me to find my courage again. I should not be kowtowed by the help. I was the lady of the house and I would not be dampened.

I walked with purpose to the garden, feeling true sunlight on my face for the first time in days and I revelled in it. The scent of the flowers was intoxicating after the false scents of perfume in the bedroom and the sound of birdsong lifted my spirits.

“I'm so glad you decided to get some fresh air, Ma'am,” Mr Barnes' voice from the side of me.

I got the fright of my life to turn around and see him digging and turning over the flowerbed in nothing but work trousers and the skin that God gave him. I had to look away, I felt shamed to see him this way.

“You're glad?” I ask.

“Yes Ma'am. You were looking rather worn. The sun will do you some good.”

“Do you exist to insult me?!” I lost my temper. “Would you ever say a kind word for me?”

He rolls his shoulders back deliberately and I'm forced to avert my eyes once again. He wants me to look, that much is obvious but I won't give him the satisfaction.

“I will say that you're innocent, wonderfully so, that you're comely and that you have a passion that rivals Mrs....that rivals Peggy's. Is that what you needed to hear? Does that help your fragile ego, Ma'am?”

I want to strike him, I so desperately want to leave a mark on his arrogant face. My fingers are curling into a fist.

Before I know it, I'm trying to punch him but he catches my arc, using it to pull me against him before caging me in his arms. I can feel the warmth of him, the clamminess of the sweat on his skin and that musk a man acquires when he does hard labour. Against his stature, I feel infinitesimally small and I begin to panic, squirming desperately.

“Now listen to me,” his eyes arrest me, rooting me to the spot. “Cut your losses and run back to where you came from. I've warned you enough. Haven't you felt his interest waning since your unfortunate mistake?”

And it was true. Steve had been incredibly distant with me recently. He would barely say a few words to me in the evening but he would take his liberties with me nonetheless. I was reduced to a mere object.

That object wasn't even to standard in his eyes either. Every time I would receive my monthly bleed, he flew into a foul mood, refusing to speak to me and vowing that the next time, I would fulfil my wifely purpose.

“He's getting tired of you,” Mr Barnes continues. “I've seen it before. _Leave him_.”

“Let me go,” I say firmly.

“Leave him or I'll make him leave you.”

“And how will you do that?”

“You don't want to find out, Ma'am.”

“I rather think if you're going to threaten me-”

I'm slung over his shoulder, taken to the entrance to the house and pinned against the doorway, his bulk trapping me in place. That predatory look is in his features again and I want to scream but Steve isn't home right now and there's not a soul for miles.

“You want to play at being a lady?” his fingers are at my throat, pushing my head back against the frame. “I'll make a lady of you, just in time for your husband to come home.”

His other hand is pulling up my skirts and brushing up my inner thigh.

“MR BARNES, STOP AT ONCE!” I squeal.

“I hear you and him, during the small hours of the night. I think I could pull better noises from you than Mr Rogers,” his grip at my neck is tightening.

“Please stop! Steve will be home any moment!”

“And what will he think when he sees you in such a compromising position with the help?” Mr Barnes' face lowers to mine as his fingers stroke against my undergarments. “I think he'll show you the kind of man he was to Peggy then. That's what you want, isn't it? To be like her?”

“Mr Barnes, I shall scream.”

“Then scream,” his eyes bore into mine. “But don't pretend you don't like a firm hand because secretly, all wild mares want to be tamed and they all want a man who isn't afraid of hard labour.”

His hand is now seeking entrance, sliding against my bare flesh and down into that sacred and secret area. I start beating at his body, trying to scratch his face but he doesn't relax his hold on me, if anything I appear to amuse him.

I'm almost hysterical as his fingers start circling the spot that makes me weak at the knees, that men never seem to care about. I'm simultaneously impressed and horrified at his skills and can do nothing but squeak against his strangulations as he plays his games with me.

“I wager Mr Rogers has never done this to you before,” Mr Barnes' lips brush against my ear as I struggle. “The landed gentry never care for their wives' pleasures. What a sight it shall be if I make you undone as he walks into the entrance hall.”

“Mr Barnes, please, I'm begging you,” I plead, all sense and notion of regaining control obliterated. I was too terrified of Steve seeing this, of thinking I was complicit. “Please stop.”

“Then say you're nothing but a silly little girl who plays at being the mistress. You cannot _be_ Mrs Rogers because Mrs Rogers will never be replaceable. Admit that and I will release you.”

“Never,” I hiss, my pride clinging on by its barest fingertips.

“Then I suggest you find your end soon because Mr Rogers is due back any moment.”

The way he plucks at the strings of my pleasure is becoming unbearable. I can feel the need building in my loin, that heavy tension ready to break. I am torn between wanting to keep my pride and wanting to keep my dignity and my window was closing fast. I resume my fighting of him, desperate to dislodge him from my body.

“Such a stubborn girl,” he kisses my cheek. “It will be your undoing. Give witness to the start of the end for your marriage.”

Pleasure ripped through me and I did my best to keep the noises to myself but it was impossible. Mr Barnes was far too talented at working my body to his whim and a pure carnal moan escaped my lips.

At once, he released me, watching the heaving of my chest and my parted lips. I wasn't sure if I had beat his little test because he was annoyed and yet curious.

“Never do that again,” I backhand him viciously. “Never come near me again. I will have you thrown from his house in rags.”

“Of course, Ma'am, but do make sure I am present when you tell Mr Rogers how you moaned like a harlot at my touch because I certainly won't let you miss telling him _that_ detail.”

“You forced yourself upon me!”

“And you found pleasure in it. Who do you think he'll be willing to believe? His loyal butler of many years or the wife of barely half a year?”

I was checkmated and he was very aware of that fact. I did not think that Steve would take my side, given his attitude to me of late.

“I thought so,” Mr Barnes smirks, rubbing the side of his face where I'd struck him. “Now run along, Ma'am. You're distracting me from my duties.”

“I loathe you,” I take a step closer to him. “You are impertinent and arrogant-”

He completely surprised me by kissing me, holding my head in place. I heard the front door open in the house and I shoved Mr Barnes as hard as I could where he fell into the rose shrub.

Without so much as a backwards glance, I recovered myself, smoothed my hair and went to meet my husband.

“I'm glad to see you out of that room,” Steve greets me warmly. “I was beginning to think you had a case of the lows.”

“Husband, come upstairs with me,” I take his hand and drag him away from the direct line of sight to the garden.

“But I wish to retire to the study and read my papers.”

I couldn't let him pull away from me any longer. Strangely emboldened by what had happened, I could at least take control of my marriage. I still felt the residual throb from Mr Barnes' ministrations and I needed more.

“And I wish to make a child,” I lean against him, whispering in his ear. “And I need _you_ desperately husband.”

He looks into my eyes and for a moment I wonder if he sees guilt there but he picks me up in his arms and takes me back to the sanctuary of our room. His papers are forgotten as he strips me bare and discards his own clothes.

I fling myself upon him, kissing him with such determination that he has to push me back a little to gain breath.

“Wife, what has come over you?”

“A singular urge to make our family, to please my husband and find pleasure in him also.”

“That makes me happy,” I see his genuine smile for the first time in days.

When we make passionate love, I don't hold back in my noises as I usually would. I know the window to the garden is wide open and if Mr Barnes is continuing with his work, he will hear everything. I want him to hear. I want him to know he has no hold over me.

“Steve!” I cry out, our movements becoming baser, more primal.

We have never crossed this line of love and duty into pure carnal desire, into chasing release from one another and the change in my husband is startling and exciting. I can see he is thrilled with this new development.

The unbidden thought crawls into my mind as we lose ourselves in the moment. Mr Barnes' face as he wrenched unwelcome delight from me, the intensity of his gaze and the half smile as he achieved his goal. I couldn't shake his phantom image and, as Steve's thrusts became more uncoordinated, I felt another release start again.

Unrestrained in myself, Steve's followed shortly after and we lay there, conjoined in our matrimonial union but I'd never felt more apart from him than I did now. I was ashamed of my own mind, that had thrown such a lustful picture of another man at a time when I was meant to be at my most faithful.

“I love you,” Steve nuzzles against my neck. “By God I love you.”

“I love you, darling.”

It wasn't a falsehood, it wasn't. I did love Steve but his neglectful treatment of me in recent weeks had dulled some of that depth of feeling I'd once had. Add into that the incident with Mr Barnes and I was extremely confused. I needed to put a stop to this before it got out of hand.

Mr Barnes needed to leave.

“I'd best get back to my work. The gala is tomorrow and Tony is quite insistent on getting a particular orchestra. I hope to see you at the dinner table, my dear,” Steve moves off me, grabbing his night clothes and pulling them on before kissing me softly. “I am pleased you are feeling more like yourself. All I want is for you to smile, my love.”

When he left the room, I was even more torn. I craved Steve's approval but the cost of it had been my own self-worth and the now constant fear that Mr Barnes would reveal what had happened in the garden.

I was at the mercy of both men, drowning in their desire for dominion over me with no hope of rescue.

The gala though, the gala presented an opportunity. If I could make Mr Barnes slip up in a drastic way, he would be dismissed from service.

But how to make the impeccable worker stumble in his duties?


	4. The Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hatch a plan to get Mr Barnes sacked and the Gala approaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non con (quite a brutal scene), angst
> 
> Possible proof reading errors
> 
> \- TLP xx

I hatched my plan during my dinner with Steve.

Mr Barnes was immaculate in both maintenance, cooking and presentation. The quickest way to unravel his reputation was to either target his upkeep of the house or the food he would offer to the gala guests.

Food. It had to be the food. Spoil it, salt it, anything to displease the attendees.

I was increasingly desperate to rid myself of his oppressive shadow and even if I had to ruin the gala I was willing to lower myself to that level.

I would enact my machinations just before my dress fitting that Steve had arranged. The gala included a masquerade theme and he had been insistent I wear something new, something spectacular.

In truth, I was more nervous about the event than my own plan. This would be the first time I was presented to society as Mrs Rogers and I wasn't certain I would be accepted. My station had been much lower than Steve's before we were wed.

“Courage, darling,” Steve kisses me. “It's a fine day. I shall see you when you return from the dressmakers. Sunday we shall have the entire day to ourselves and I would so like to take you into the capital. Would you like that?”

“I would like that immensely,” I smile.

Since my sexual outburst after Mr Barnes' actions, Steve's temperament had changed towards me again and he was more like the man I had fallen in love with in Monte Carlo. He was patient, considerate and loving.

I could tell Mr Barnes was infuriated with this development but I avoided being alone with him so I was never privy to his direct thoughts. He would never dare approach me when Steve was in the vicinity.

“Very good,” he kisses my forehead before moving out of our bed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I'll be in my study.”

I waited a good amount of time before stealing downstairs, light night clothing making no sound around me as I silently moved to the kitchen. I could see Steve had hired help for Mr Barnes due to the sheer numbers of attendees so I had to hide my presence from them, curling into the recesses whenever someone passed by.

They were preoccupied with the teetering cake that some unfortunate young man was nearly falling over with. In the ruckus, I had just enough time to grab the salt and the vinegar, liberally applying both to the pork roast, the chicken, the beef wellington and even the soup tureens before I had to slink off again.

I waited another length of time as Mr Barnes became flustered with one of the edible arrangements. It was fascinating to watch his perfectionism take root as he ordered every detail to his design, even down to the angle of the exotic fruits.

Tearing myself away, I rushed out to grab the salt again before flinging some over the desserts laid out. I froze for a moment as Mr Barnes turned and I pressed myself against the cabinets, keeping out of sight before I crawled along the floor and out of the kitchen.

My scheme was fulfilled.

I left the manor as normal, going to my appointment with a much lighter heart than I'd had in days.

**

I left the altered dress in the room, helping Steve to do his bow tie in the bathroom. Like all men, his dexterity with such a delicate procedure was questionable.

“You appear anxious, my dear,” Steve notes my expression. “Don't worry yourself, this will be wonderful and _you_ are wonderful. I cannot wait to show you to my friends.”

His enthusiasm was contagious and I felt the tiny sting of guilt that I would be spoiling his event for the sake of my own peace of mind. I pushed it aside, this was necessary for our happiness, for our marriage.

I craved to see the smile that Steve was giving me now and to retain it always.

“I hope I will not disappoint,” I look up at him, the bow tie complete.

He strokes my face and kisses me softly, “Get changed, darling. I will meet you downstairs.”

As he opened the door, I could hear the din of the party downstairs which seemed in full swing before the door closed again and I was alone.

I made my way to our bedroom, pulling the dress out of the covering and admiring the beautiful wine colour as the satin pooled over my fingers. I was thankful I could get it on myself without assistance, the tiny lacing on the front easy to pull to tighten my waist. I artfully styled my hair, rouged my lips and cheeks before feeling ready enough to join New York society.

I was confident, I was excited, I was feeling like nothing could ruin the cloud that I lay upon as I swept down the hallway to the top of the stairs. I could see the milling throng below me, the men and women of high status as they laughed and talked animatedly. I could've been happy just observing them, curiously watching their interactions but I was needed with my husband.

I started down the stairs and I saw heads turning towards me. I tried to ignore them, to keep my face straight rather than watch their reactions to me.

I saw Steve talking with Tony and Tony stopped his conversation to look at me. It took a moment before Steve turned around too.

I watched his expression switch from joy to indentured shock and finally all the colour drained from his complexion. He looked as if I were some spectre, a horrific phantom.

In several shaky strides, he was at the bottom of the staircase, hissing at me, “What the hell are you doing?!”

His rage took me by surprise.

“What do you mean?” I ask in a shaky voice.

“Do you mock me?!” his own voice is trembling. “Is this some jape to you?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

I looked up at everyone's glances, some of which were behind me and I slowly looked around to see her....

Peggy

Oh God.

I was wearing the _exact_ same dress as the painting.

Realisation hit me heavily. I knew my attire was meant to be red, as per Steve's instruction but the cut and the fabric was Peggy's fashion. Perhaps these were even Peggy's clothes to begin with. My own dress had been swapped.

I met Mr Barnes' eyes from across the room as he stood with a platter of champagne flutes and the sheer delight on his face was enough to tell me who was the culprit.

“Go upstairs, immediately,” Steve growls in a voice I had never heard him use before.

“But-”

He came up the stairs and gripped my arm, pulling me up with him and I tried to protest but my feet dragged along the carpet as he yanked me along. I fell over but he kept his drastic pace, even when my feet scraped the door frame painfully.

He bodily picked me up, throwing me onto the bed where I bounced and heard the click of the lock. I was trapped in here, trapped with a man who looked murderous.

“I can't decide whether you are that desperate for my approval that you wish to emulate Peggy or that you're a spiteful and wicked girl,” he snarls, prowling towards me. “How dare you either way.”

“It was an accident! A mistake!” I start crying.

“QUIET!” he roars and I flinch. “You have embarrassed me!”

“I didn't mean to!”

“This is a betrayal, woman. I told you not to ask questions and you so blatantly threw her memory in my face! You want to know how our marriage was? You want to know what it was like to live with Peggy? I'LL SHOW YOU!”

The next thing I knew, I was fighting with him as he was tearing into the dress, ripping strips of fabric away from my body until my undergarments were beginning to be exposed. He was hurting me, cruel in his rage and he didn't care. I could see in his eyes he didn't care.

“Please! Stop! Steve!” I choke out, trying to hit him but it only inflames his fury.

He grabs the gusset of my small things and rips a hole in them, my sex bared to him. Only then does he stop destroying the gown and he pushes his own suit trousers down before pinning my hands to the bed and sheathing himself into me.

I'm not prepared and I'm not ready. It stings, by god, does it sting.

“This is how our marriage was,” he grunts, rutting hard. “She would push me to breaking point, until the point of physical violence all because she wanted this. She wanted ruination and she would drag me down with her to meet that end. I hated her. I _hated_ her.”

“Don't hate me Steve. Please, stop,” my chest hurts from sobbing, my wrists hurt from the weight of him, I hurt deep within me from his punishing thrusts. “I'm sorry.”

“You will be,” he rumbles darkly.

He withdraws from me, flipping me onto my front before pulling me to the end of the bed where he stands, pushing back into me. One of his broad hands comes down across my rear and I shriek with the pain.

Again and again he strikes me until I can feel the skin burning and bruising and all the while his pace never falters, driving directly into the core of me. When he tires of attacking me, he grabs my hair, wresting it from its pinned style to bend my spine to the point of agony, his other hand coming around my throat.

I could barely breathe and I was completely powerless. This monster was not my husband. I didn't know where this beast has arisen from.

He drove deep, deep into me and met his end with a hiss before letting me go without warning and I hit the mattress in a heap. I could just hear him panting heavily behind me.

“Now you know,” he pushes his hair back as I meet his eyes that are so full of venom compared to mine so full of devastation. “Do you think this was a happy state for me to remember? Do you think she was better than you? I wanted you because you were sweet, you were bright, you were my summer morning. She was nothing but the bitter frost of winter.”

I said nothing but continued to silently sob.

“Get cleaned up and stay here,” his tone is cold, his gaze is cold. “I can't even stand to look at you right now.”

“Steve please, I'm sorry,” I scramble after him but the second I reach him, he shoves me onto the floor where I go sprawling.

In one motion he's out of the door and he's locked me in. I'm left to wail my grief and shame to empty walls, in rags of fine satin, curled up in a ball.

I don't even know how many hours go by but I can't hear much of the party any more.

The lock turns and I sit up, thinking Steve has returned and mentally preparing myself for the argument ahead. Only...it's not Steve who enters.

Mr Barnes walks in with a tray of food and sets it before me, kneeling down and looking at my destruction.

“ _You_ ,” I growl, all my hatred boiling over. “You did this to me.”

“I rather think you threw the first stone, Ma'am,” he ticks his head to one side. “You didn't think I saw you in the kitchen this morning? Clever plan, I'm sure, but what you fail to realise is that even if you had been stealthy enough to avoid detection, I taste every dish before it goes out. It never would've worked.”

“And your revenge is this?” I gesture to my tattered ballgown. “Do you have any idea what he did to me?”

“I heard,” his eyes grow dark. “I told you Mr Rogers was not the man you thought he was. Do you believe me now? Has this act of barbarity finally knocked some sense into your dense, pretty head? He won't return to you tonight. Once the gala is over, he will visit Tony's estate and stay there. Were I not in the house, you would've starved. Does that sound like a man you wish to be tethered to?”

“He said Peggy used to goad him until his temper snapped.”

“Mrs Rogers was fiery, yes, sometimes even stubbornly so but if a man cannot handle his wife having spirit then he should not have married her. Violence is never the final option.”

“Are you happy now?” the tears start afresh. “Seeing me this way? Knowing what he did.”

“You think I revel in cruelty?” his eyes find mine. “I have told you from the start, if you are to be like Peggy Rogers you will meet the same end. I am trying to save you from that fate.”

“Mr Barnes-”

“James,” he cuts my speech short. “I want to hear you say it. James.”

“You are the butler, you are Mr Barnes. It's impolite to call you anything else.”

He comes so close to me again, intense in his expression as he looks down at my lips, “Indulge me and I can help you. I can help you flee this marriage or I will help you survive him should you be idiotic enough to stay. You don't need to be my enemy, nor I yours. Just....indulge me.”

I was desperate, saddened and alone as I sat on the floor, too shocked to cover myself and aching everywhere from Steve's aggression. I could still feel the warmth of his madness trickling down the inside of my leg. Was I really such a lost cause that I was turning to the man who had tormented me to help me?

If I didn't seek his assistance, I would have both him and Steve tearing me apart between them.

“James,” I finally say and he smiles at me.

“I will keep you safe. Tomorrow I will show you what happened to Peggy in full. For now, Mr Rogers will not be back home for some time. It is above my station to offer you comfort but I will do so at any rate.”

He holds his arms out but does not push his offer. What a wretched thing I was that I flung myself into the heat of his embrace as he let me cry my fears and trauma out against him.

Was my marriage over? Did I want to stay with Steve if he could do a thing like that to me with no hint of remorse?

“Hush, my dear,” Mr Barnes coos soothingly. “It will be alright. Everything will be alright. I'm here. I've got you.”

And why was I trusting Mr Barnes, of all people?


	5. The Locked Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermaths of Steve's actions are laid bare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, trauma
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- TLP xx

Steve did not return that night.

In the morning, I rushed throughout the house, still dazed from my assault the previous day as I stumbled, a raw shell of myself around this ghastly place.

The very emptiness of this manor was suffocating, only my own fearful breaths ringing in my ears as I searched and I searched, only taunting loneliness behind each door. Not even Mr Barnes was making his presence known.

There was a letter waiting on the porch, hastily thrown there and I grabbed for it, seeing my initial in cursive. When I wrenched the paper from its prison, there was no doubt that it was my own Steve's handwriting, although the lack of care for his lines and spacing told me his mood was still foul.

_Wife,_

_I shall be gone for a time. Do not look for me._

_I need to think._

_Steve._

I crumpled onto the steps, my hands shaking as I read the letter over and over again. He was abandoning me. I was to be alone.

Even if he did come back to me, our life would never be as it was. Last night could never be undone. The lines of decency were broken and I still felt desecrated and ashamed. At my heart, I knew this was not my fault but that didn't stop my emotions from making me feel culpable.

“What are you doing on the ground?” a blanket is thrown around my bare shoulders as I'm shivering in the weak morning sun. “You'll catch your death, Mrs Rogers.”

I look up at the usually pugnacious butler who only seems to have kind expressions for me today. He was even addressing me by my proper title now.

Mr Barnes had spent last night holding me tightly until my crying hysteria had passed and then he had carried me to the bed, tucking me in gently and feeding me the food he had prepared. I was little more than a child under his care but his barbed words to me ceased in that moment.

“Steve's not coming home,” I let him take the note.

“I told you he would flee. He never likes to witness the aftermath of his actions,” Mr Barnes' voice is angry, cold but it switches to something more indecipherable. “Come with me. I promised I would show you what happened to Peggy.”

He holds his hand out and I take it, letting him pull me towards her room. I feel nothing but numbness, not even a sense of foreboding. I can barely feel Mr Barnes' fingers around mine.

We reach her door and Mr Barnes pulls a key on a chain from around his neck, hidden underneath his crisp suit and unlocks it. He turns to me, a sense of urgency as he speaks.

“If you go in, you can never go back. You'll know too much. Are you sure you want to continue?”

I don't answer. I just sweep past him and open the door.

Peggy's room is as well kept as any other in the house. I was expecting a layer of dust, sheets to protect the furniture but it looks like she could've simply left the room that morning.

“I still clean it everyday,” Mr Barnes notes your expression. “She would've wanted me to.”

“What is it you wanted me to see?”

“Look in the bedside drawer.”

With no trepidation, I crossed to the bed, sitting down upon it and opening the little wooden drawer. It had a lock but this was apparently open. What I saw within were letters, teems of letters and one diary within.

I picked up the diary and began to read:

_March 27 th_

_He hit me today. My Stevie hit me._

_We argued about his constant parties and habitually transient lifestyle and he hit me across the face. My lip bled but he didn't care. What happened to the man I love?_

_April 11 th_

_His violent outbursts are becoming more frequent. I do not know if I can weather them much longer._

_My body is a testament to his rage and only Mr Barnes keeps me from being permanently afflicted by it. No longer am I the receiver of his affections. I wonder if there is someone else sometimes but Steve assures me there is not._

_May 1 st_

_I strayed from my marriage vows and I should feel reprehensible but I do not._

_This man is caring, he's perfect and he knows I am trapped in this maelstrom of miserable matrimony and yet, he isn't repulsed. He wants to save me. I gave myself to him and it was a bliss I had not experienced before._

_I need to make plans to leave Steve._

_May 23 rd_

_I am late for my monthly bleed and I'm frightened. I've not lain with Steve for so long that if I am with child, he'll know. Oh god, he'll know._

_June 9 th_

_I keep seeing my lover but I know this is dangerous territory. If Steve were to find out, I'm not sure what he would be capable of._

_I still haven't scavenged enough money to leave yet but I hope to soon._

_June 30 th_

_I am with child. I need to leave immediately before I start to show but I still do not have the finances._

_August 25 th_

_He knows. He knows. Should this be my last missive to the world, Steve Rogers has murdered me for straying from our abusive marriage._

_God help me. I'm so scared. God help me._

The entries abruptly cut off.

“Look in the bottom drawer,” Mr Barnes encourages me.

I open that too to see a toy bear, dainty and small, woven of finest wool and stuffing. A child's bear.

“What happened to her?” you turn the toy over. “Was it just a naval accident?”

“I was next door when the truth came out about Peggy's affair. He found the diary,” he sits down next to me. “I heard many things being broken and I heard her screaming but the door was locked and barricaded. I couldn't get in. It cleaved my soul apart to be so helpless but I thought she was no more worse for wear the next morning and that the fight had blown over. She fled the house saying she would be going to the bay. Mr Rogers left a short time afterwards. Peggy's boat capsized in the storm and was lost to the waves. They never found her body. Of course, I couldn't prove Steve had done it but Peggy would never be so idiotic to sail alone in bad weather.”

“She was pregnant with another man's child. Who was the man?”

“I do not know,” he stares off into space. “I have my suspicions it might have been one of Mr Rogers close friends but Peggy took the identity of the man to the grave with her.”

“Why do you keep serving Mr Rogers if you think he's a murderer?”

He turns to me, the conflicting emotions whirling through his eyes, “I cannot prove anything and thus, I go on as before. I will not accuse him of something I am not absolutely certain of. When I heard he had gotten married again, however, I couldn't allow him to visit his ruination upon another poor soul. This is why I reveal this to you. Please, I beg of you to leave this place.”

“You know I cannot. I have nowhere to go, I cannot travel home alone.”

“I'll help you. I'll sell the silverware. Mr Rogers doesn't even remember that he has it. That will pay for your ticket home.”

“I still can't travel alone. Questions will be asked.”

He grips my hands in his, “I will go with you if you need me to. I only stay here because I do not know what else to do, after all. Protecting you is better than serving him.”

“I can't, I can't,” I shake my head. “I can't leave my husband.”

“You can and you should,” he lets go of one hand to stroke my hair back over my ear.

I'm not flinching at the familiarity. I'm not chiding him either. I just seem to let him play with my hair and remember with a pang when Steve used to do the same.

“I'm frightened,” I blurt out.

“I know you are. Mr Rogers is a monster,” he pulls me into his embrace again and still I don't push him away.

My head is so filled of warring emotions that I want to scream. A sense of duty is keeping me here. Marriage vows should be for life....but Steve's actions, I cannot condone those. I _would_ not condone those. He hurt me, he violated me, he humiliated me and all to prove a point. His affections were conditional upon me being his idea of perfection.

I do not remember the point that led me to stare up at Mr Barnes' face as he looked down upon mine. Tension hung between us and I saw his gaze flicker to my lips before willingly searching mine for an indication of what he should do.

As a good woman I should be panicking inside and yet I wasn't. All I was doing was staying stock still, gazing back.

If I made a move it was adultery. If he made a move and I accepted, it was still adultery.

Peggy's heartbroken words were still fresh in my memory and the temptation to spite Steve, to find happiness in the destruction he wrought was heavy.

Mr Barnes inched down and I could feel his warm breath ghosting against my lips. One more inch and I could never go back.

What should I do? What on earth should I do?


	6. The Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make your choice regarding Mr Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, domestic abuse mentions
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- TLP xx

I was at the point of no return.

Mr Barnes was so close to me now and I could hear my heart fluttering in response. To betray Steve now would feel like victory on my part, to snatch my own happiness in the wake of his terror.

Steve was not the man I had met in Monte Carlo and I am unsure whether he was ever that man now. To do something so consistently cruelly, to vilify me for being unable to fall pregnant yet and to take out his rage about Peggy upon me....my love was turning to stone. There were so many secrets and hidden facets to him that I realised I never really knew him, only the mask he wanted me to see.

“Only if you want me to,” Mr Barnes whispers. “I know you belong to him but-”

“-I _don't_ belong to him,” I say firmly. “I'm not an object. I'm not something to be collected and abused.”

“No, you are someone to be saved, to be adored, to be loved. I have seen his love for you wane and all I have wanted to do is rescue you.”

“Is that why you violated me in the garden then?”

“Forgive me, I was hoping for you to get caught. Mr Rogers has the money to divorce you and you would've been free of him......it was also an indulgence on my part.”

“You were right, Mr Barnes, Steve had never done a thing like that to me before.”

“James, please,” his eyes are almost pleading. “Call me James.”

“Help me, James. Keep him from hurting me. I can't stand it any longer.”

I felt weaker than Peggy in that instant. God knows what she had been through and survived for longer than I but I still felt the marks of Steve's brutal assault on my skin and I wanted this feeling no more. The only feeling I wanted was someone to protect me and to want me without conditions.

“Of course I will. I'll keep you safe.”

I broke the vow to my husband.

I moved forward and closed the infinitesimal gap between us, kissing Mr Barnes of my own volition. He held me gently, softly caressing my back as we continued and my initial misgivings faded away until not even my crushing guilt held a strong voice any more.

Just at the point where I believed things would take a more deviant turn, he pulled back and took my hands, pulling me to my feet.

“Wait there,” his eyes shone with a brightness that was captivating.

He moved to the record player and started winding it up.

“Since we both ruined the Gala for each other, dance with me.”

“Are you jesting with me?”

“I'm serious,” he holds out a hand. “If you're willing.”

I took his offer, discovering that amongst his many talents of running this household, he was an accomplished dancer also and we twirled around Peggy's room. The confidence between us grew and I found myself smiling at his enthusiasm.

Whereas Steve hid his monstrousness under a mask of civility, Mr Barnes seemed to hide his vivacity and gentleness for life under a mask of arrogance and boorish behaviour.

“You're very good at this,” I say after he manages some impeccable footwork.

“Easy to dance well when I have a graceful partner,” he dips me back but doesn't fully let me up all the way.

Again I found my lips meeting his and I was swept away in him, my reasoning forgotten.

“Leave him,” he whispers when he pulls me upright again. “Leave him and run away with me.”

“I need to think.”

“Don't ponder on it for too long,” he implores me. “The longer you remain here, the less of you I will have to save under his care. I beg you, be more sensible than the first Mrs Rogers.”

“I have already betrayed my husband, I must be certain of myself to flee. The shame of it...”

“There is no shame in escaping a mad man,” he cups my face. “Anyone who should speak ill of you will have me to answer to.”

“James, I-”

“-it makes my heart soar when you say my name.”

The kiss is more frenzied this time, like the garden before and I lose my thoughts as the music finally grinds to a halt and stops just in time for me to hear the front door open downstairs. I break away in a panic.

“Steve,” I barely more than breathe. “He wasn't supposed to be back this soon.”

“Go,” Mr Barnes urges. “Get far away from this room before he sees. Scream if you need my help.”

I take his advice and take flight down the corridor, my bare feet making barely any noise on the plush carpeting.

“Wife?” Steve calls and the tone is harsh but not completely cold. “Wife, are you here?”

I go to the balcony overlooking the grand hall, near the painting of Peggy and see him stood there in his rumpled party clothes, the bow tie hanging loosely around his neck and stubble peppering his jawline, so starkly dark against his skin.

“I'm here.”

He looks up at me, the rims of his eyes are red as he feverishly runs up the stairs towards me and prostrates himself at my feet.

“Oh my darling, what have I done to you?” he bites back a choked sob as he sees the finger marks on my legs, peeking out from the nightdress. “Forgive me.”

“I don't know that I can, Steve,” I back away.

“Please, please let me explain,” he gestures to our room.

I allow him the indulgence of following him as he crashes onto the bed, the very image of a broken man. I can see tears tracking down his cheeks.

“I was a monster,” his voice quavers. “I need you to listen to me about my marriage with Peggy. It does not excuse what I did but I need you to understand. I am not the man who left you on the floor, I am the man in Monte Carlo who made love to you against a palm tree and promised to love you for all the days and nights to come.”

“Explain to me Steve.”

“Peggy and I, that courtship was longer than ours and we married because that is what was expected after so long. Three months of happiness went by until she began to become cold towards me. She would seek arguments, she would criticise me daily....I felt like a failure as a husband and as a man. Her words cut to my soul so deeply, I would barely be able to perform my marital duties. She would insult me until my temper was so inflamed that I....I'm afraid you know all too well what happened when she did that. She would even strike me so hard that I was unable to socialise until the bruises healed. I hated her with every ounce of my being, for taking everything away that was me. I was a shell, I was hollow. She would even run to my butler and make up vicious lies that I had hurt her so even my staff shunned me.”

The pit of my stomach twisted at hearing this. Suddenly I was not so sure what I could believe any more.

“She would flaunt her flirtations with other men in front of me so openly that I was permanently shamed. They found it endearing but I found it humiliating. That's what life with Peggy was....seeing you in her dress, it brought back these feelings and those memories. I never wanted to feel that small ever again. I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart and soul, I am sorry for the cruelty I inflicted on you, my sweet wife. You deserved none of it. I should never hope to have any of your forgiveness but I would like to work towards it, for you to trust me again that I would not harm you intentionally.”

His tears overtook him and he buried his face in his hands, shoulders heaving with his sorrow.

I stood there, unable to say anything. Two versions of the story had been told to me, a version where Steve was the aggressor and a version where Peggy instigated the violence. I was unable to tell which was the truth. Perhaps the truth lay somewhere in the middle.

But now I was rooted here, the creeping shame of my adulterous mistake taking hold. What if Steve was being honest with me and I had just kissed Mr Barnes on the word of a lying woman, on a manipulated butler? But also, what if Steve was falsifying his tale to me to keep me pliant?

The only thing that was certain for me is that I could not leave Steve, not until I found out once and for all what had happened to Peggy Rogers.


	7. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You confront Steve over Peggy's diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, Possessive Behaviour, Smut
> 
> (Possible proof reading and grammar errors. I'm tired AF so I may slip into second person by accident. Tried to proof read them all out)
> 
> \- TLP xx

Steve and I slept in separate rooms that night.

He didn't dare to touch me as he continued to sob uncontrollably until I was forced to make the decision to leave him there or comfort him. I chose the former.

I was not ready to forgive him, to believe him. His tears may have been real but until I knew the truth of the matter, I would not return his affections...nor would I indulge Mr Barnes any more now that doubt was cast upon the entire affair.

I locked myself in a guest room for the rest of the day, not even deigning to come out for food as I pondered my next move. The crux of the story hinged on which party was the victim and what role Mr Barnes had in this too. I needed to see if Peggy's diary could be validated or disproven and that meant I would need to ask Steve about the pregnancy.

Once I knew that was verbatim, I could move on to contacting her doctor to confirm it. Then it was a question of speaking to Steve's friends and trying to determine who she had the affair with.

If I could do all of this and know once and for all whether Steve was lying to me, I would leave him. If not....I would have a lot of work to do to repair the damage done to our marriage and Mr Barnes would have to leave immediately.

I was aware, in the small hours of the night, of someone trying the door handle, a shadow blocking the light under the door. I wondered who it might have been but they did not try any further and moved away.

I'm not sure which man I would rather it have been at that point in time.

**

Steve did not attend his personal business the next day.

I found him at the table eating breakfast and scribbling feverishly in a journal and dressed in simple clothing, his hair askew. Mr Barnes was refilling his morning coffee and looked up at me with a degree of alarm and longing which I could not return. Steve noticed me soon afterwards.

“Wife,” his throat was hoarse and cracked. It sounded as if he hadn't stopped crying all night and possibly hadn't done given the purpling circles under his eyes. “You're still here. You're still here with me.”

“We need to talk,” I sit down as Mr Barnes busies himself with bringing over food for me. “In private.”

“James, go upstairs,” Steve says quickly and I feel the inappropriate brush against my back from the butler.

“Of course, sir,” Mr Barnes nods and gathers his cleaning equipment before leaving the room.

“You left me so suddenly I thought you had declared our union done,” Steve starts, pushing his messy hair back.

“There are things I need to ask you about and I hope you will have the courtesy to answer me honestly,” I sit up straighter.

“I shall have no more secrets from you.”

“Was Peggy ever pregnant by a man who was not you?”

His eyes go wide and the remaining colour drains from his face, “You found that diary.”

“Yes I did.”

He gets up, moving to the liquor cabinet and grabbing a bottle of scotch, pouring himself a glass and drinking all the contents before he finally turns to look at me. Whatever he had to say required the false courage of alcohol it seemed.

“I found that diary myself. She became very secretive of all a sudden and a man knows....he knows when his wife is being unfaithful. I searched her room until I found that evidence and I confronted her. She taunted me with the fact she had gotten pregnant by another man, told me I was worthless as a husband for not being able to do the same to her myself in the months we'd been together.”

He trails off, staring hard at the floor and I see tears brimming in his eyes again. The pain on his face looks so visceral that I want so badly to believe him but I also feel a great amount of shame that I should be so like Peggy and have twisted his trust also, albeit not as completely as she.

“And what happened then?” I prompt.

“I tried to beg her to stay, that I would accept her even in her adultery but she just laughed at me. She went to the bay and I followed. I couldn't accept that she might leave me, that I would be a complete failure in the eyes of my family and society, the man who could not get a child on his wife and she had to look elsewhere. We argued so fiercely that I feared a passerby might have to intervene.”

Now I had to ask the question I feared most. I gathered the strength I could for it.

“They say she went down in a storm on a boat that day but I've heard she was an accomplished sailor. Steve, Stevie, did you tamper with the boat? Did you kill Peggy?”

His face shot up and I had the split second glimpse of pure panic before his legs collapsed under him and he sprawled on the floor. I had to move around the table and sit next to him to be able to understand the frenzied words he was saying.

He grasped my shoulders desperately, “I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I didn't....I.....she was laughing, even when my hands went round her throat she was laughing and she wouldn't stop and before I realised what I had done...oh god, she was dead. I put her on the boat and drilled a hole in the bottom before swimming back to shore. I didn't know what else to do.”

I couldn't deny the truth any longer. My husband had killed his first wife, just like Mr Barnes suspected he did.

“Please don't be frightened of me,” he begs, almost manic. “I would never...not to you, not to my sweet, kindly wife. You have endured my horrors and given none in return. I am not worthy of you.”

“Steve, let me go,” his grip was becoming painful.

“Please don't leave,” it's little more than a whisper. “I know I am reprehensible but please...I love you.”

“Let me make my decision alone,” I try to reason. “I need to think.”

But before I can move away, he's dived upon me, kissing me so urgently that I almost fall to the carpet. I put my hands on his chest to try and keep him at bay.

“Stop!” I say but he's far too desperate to listen.

He's trying to be romantic, to softly kiss along my neck like he used to. He thinks he can win me over by the sheer weight of his love for me but in truth I find it terrifying after such a revelation.

“STEVE STOP!” I shout.

“You can't leave me, you can't,” he just keeps repeating as he crushes me to his body, attempting to rouse those feelings of lust in me.

I hear footsteps but he's not releasing me. Mr Barnes has run into the room.

“Sir? Sir! Sir, let go of her. You've had too much to drink.”

“She is my wife, James. I shall love her.”

“Mr Rogers! Release her at once! She's frightened!”

“You're not frightened of me, are you dear wife?” Steve whispers in my ear. “I'm the same Steve as Monte Carlo, just let me show you.”

“Please stop!” I'm in tears now.

The butler jumps into the fray, pulling Steve off of me where the two grapple with each other. All I do is lie there, horror struck as the two men fight before Mr Barnes finally gets Steve face first against the wall.

“Leave her alone,” Mr Barnes growls.

“That's what you want, isn't it?” Steve laughs bitterly. “For her to be alone so you can try seducing her like you did Peggy? Only Peggy never wanted you either so you're no better than I am. Unhand me or I'll sack you immediately!”

Mr Barnes releases him, stepping backwards and Steve angrily rights himself. I think for a moment he'll advance upon me again but when his gaze lands on my tearful and terrified face, guilt settles there.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to harm you,” is all he'll say before going upstairs and out of sight. I hear a door slam a little while afterwards.

“Are you alright?” Mr Barnes helps me to my feet.

“No,” I shake my head.

I wasn't yet going to reveal Steve's secret. There were still some mysteries I hadn't had explained to me but the biggest one had surely been told at the very least. Now I just had to determine if this was a crime of passion or pre-meditated murder.

“Come into the study. You can lock the door and be away from him,” Mr Barnes leads me away.

Once I am sat on Steve's desk, I find it a little easier to breathe. Mr Barnes fetches me a glass of gin from the hidden stash in the globe and I drink that and two more before I feel composed enough.

“Leave him,” Mr Barnes urges me again.

“Not until I'm sure,” I say firmly. “And I would like to know what Steve meant by you seducing Peggy. You weren't...you weren't the man she was having an affair with, were you?”

He laughs but it's not unkind, “No I was not. I loved Peggy but not in a romantic way. Mr Rogers was always paranoid that men were trying to take her away from him. You saw his reaction just now. I just wanted what was best for her. She was a bright and beautiful woman and didn't deserve what happened to her.”

“If she was beautiful then surely you desired her?”

“Only admired,” he sets another glass in my hands. “We confided a lot in each other. By the final days she was more like my sister than my mistress.”

“Then what is so different about _me_? It sounds like you knew Peggy well and yet you barely know anything about me in comparison.”

“Oh I know you,” Mr Barnes' fingers brush against the back of my hand. “And that is why I love you and not Mr Roger's kind of love. If you told me to never be in your presence again, I would go in an instant. I only want to see you happy. I tried to come to your bedchambers last night to see if you were well but I guess you did not wish to be disturbed.”

So it was Mr Barnes who had tried my door.

He leant on the desk, staring down at me as my emotions raged and whirled. Two men claimed that they loved me and neither had been entirely virtuous...yet with the revelation that my husband had murdered Peggy, I was turning more towards the butler who had saved me from his raving mania just now.

Mr Barnes was a hair's breadth away from me before I realised as he bent to say, “Tell me to leave and I will leave.”

“And if I don't?” I whisper.

“Then I'll show you something else Mr Rogers is not skilled enough to do,” he whispers back. “You deserve to feel happy and I want to put your odious husband out of your mind for now. Will you let me?”

I'd promised myself I wouldn't engage with Mr Barnes any more until I had solved what needed to be solved but Steve's actions had left me craving contact on my terms. I was weak and I was needy. I told myself I would deal with the guilt later.

“Yes, yes I'll let you,” it's barely audible but he hears it.

His kiss is much softer than Steve's, I have the control. We reach that same point as yesterday where I believe things will take a more lustful turn and he lifts my skirts up, pulling my underwear down before kissing a line up the inside of my calf, of my thigh.

He drops to his knees and I wonder what he's doing until he moves forward and I feel his tongue, hot and wet against me and jerk in surprise.

“Just relax,” he coos gently. “Try to keep quiet. I wouldn't want Mr Rogers to hear you if he should come downstairs.”

I did as he asked and did what felt natural. I lay back over the desk as he trailed his tongue over me, explored me, devoured me. It was difficult to remain silent and I clutched the wood beneath me as if that would help the moan that wanted to burst forth.

I had never experienced anything like this. I was shaking under his talented mouth, feeling that same tension start winding tighter like in the garden. I didn't even realise what I was doing until my hand was in his hair, pulling him even closer to me and I heard the low groan he made.

That sound struck me to the core and I bucked as I felt the wave of pleasure rush through me. I had to cover my own mouth to stop the scream I nearly made.

“You are wonderful,” Mr Barnes stood up, leaning over me.

I could feel his suit trousers against my sex and did not know if he would take this any further but he simply stepped away and helped me to a sitting position.

“I hope that helped,” he smiles. “I would do that everyday for you if you'd run away with me.”

“James, I still need to have questions answered before I make any decisions.”

He seems disappointed but understanding, “Can I help?”

“Who was Peggy's physician?”

“Doctor Banner. He lives in central New York. Do you need to see him?”

“I do.”

“I'll take you there once I attend to Mr Rogers. I am still his butler and I still need to check on his welfare but after, after we shall go.”

“Thank you,” I nod and he gives me a lingering kiss before going out of the study again.

I should feel awful for what he did but my sympathies for Steve were running thin and any guilt I might have felt evaporated when he scared me witless. Was I that sure that if Steve's story held any truth that I could stay with him?

Knowing the full extent of his darker side, was I just gambling on luck that I wouldn't end up the same way? I _was_ playing a dangerous game after all. He murdered Peggy for infidelity, so his tale goes and hers and here I was indulging in the same.

Perhaps it would be better if I left no matter what I found out.


	8. The Physician's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to see Dr Banner to see if the diary is true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, medical exam, manipulation
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- NB xx

Mr Barnes took an awfully long time.

When he returned to me, he wasn't alone and his shirt was ripped. It appeared as if the two had fought again, Steve's mouth was bleeding.

“I understand you wish to see the physician,” Steve ventures hesitantly. “Have I caused you that much harm?”

“It is for peace of mind,” I don't even understand why I still give him comfort.

“I wish to apologise for my behaviour,” he starts. “James, please go ready the automobile.”

“Very good, sir,” Mr Barnes gives him a reproachful look, a clear warning sign before walking out of the front door and buttoning his jacket to hide the damage to his shirt.

I know from that exchange that my husband will not attempt to scare me again. The shame is deeply etched all over him.

“Darling wife,” Steve's eyes are brimming with tears. “I cannot undo what I have done. I know you despise me now, for what I have done to you and done to Peggy before you but I want you to know I am sorry and I love you. I would not blame you if you sought a divorce from me and if that's what you wish, I will make it so. I need to realise I cannot cling onto you when I have been so terrible.”

He's waiting for me to speak but I don't. I'm unsure what I can even say.

“Just promise me you shall be careful around Mr Barnes, even if you don't desire me any more.”

“And why should I be careful?” I finally speak up.

“In the days before she became cold to me, Peggy spoke of James trying to seduce her. She said he had tried to lift her skirts in the garden. I have no proof that this is true, mind, that's why I have kept him on as my butler. He does impeccable work but...if he should try anything beyond his usual insults, be wary.”

Mr Barnes had lifted _my_ skirts in the garden. I was not sure whether Steve was speaking what he knew or whether he had an idea of what the butler and I had done but if Steve was right....I should trust no one.

“I shall try and protect myself,” I nod.

“Be safe,” his voice is choked and I ignore the wrenching feeling in my stomach to hear his pain.

“I will return when I am able and we shall talk then.”

I leave him at the doorway, not an affectionate touch between us as I climb into the back of the automobile and Mr Barnes drives us away.

I think throughout the journey what would my life be like had I not met Steve in Monte Carlo. Doubtless I would be happier but I still longed for those beautiful nights we had spent together. To see a glimpse of true joy and have it taken.....

Or maybe Mr Barnes was the issue. If he hadn't of tried to sew discord between me and my husband, would we still be blindly in love? Would I never have known the depths of his darkness? Would I never have strayed so far from my marriage?

**

We arrived at Dr Banner's sometime in the afternoon.

He was a pleasantly harried looking man who had the ambiance of one who never liked to remain still. He shook my hand and Mr Barnes waited outside to guard the car.

“I gotta say, I was surprised when I received the message that you were coming,” he leads me into his office.

“You were?” I sit down opposite his desk.

“Not often the second wife asks about the first,” he smiles awkwardly. “What can I help you with?”

“My husband and I, we've been trying for a child some months now and I am unsure whether the fault lays with me or him in our failure. The butler told me that Peggy Rogers was pregnant and I wonder if you could confirm that for me. At least I would know that it was myself that was the problem.”

The lie rolls off my tongue so easily. Dr Banner blinks at me for a second then appears confused.

“Peggy was never pregnant.”

“I don't understand. She told Steve she was pregnant.”

“I'm sorry to have to tell you this but she couldn't _get_ pregnant,” Dr Banner leans forward, arms folded on the desk. “The last time I saw Peggy, the tumours in her womb were so advanced, she only had a year to live.”

I sat there in stunned silence

“So she was never....she had never been pregnant?”

“No,” Dr Banner sighs. “I'm sorry, I can't give you any information about why you're struggling to conceive. When was your last bleed?”

“I....”

I didn't remember. The last few weeks have been such a blur of anger and sadness.

“Let me do a test,” Dr Banner smiles kindly. “I've developed a faster method of determining possibly pregnancy so you wouldn't have to wait a week for the rabbit test. May I?”

I'm too astonished to do much else than comply. The mystery of Peggy had deepened to a point where I didn't know what to believe any more. She had written down that she was pregnant, told Steve, Mr Barnes knew....but she was actually dying? Why would she do that?

“I'll have your results telephoned later today,” Dr Banner finishes up. “But you appear a healthy young woman. It can take time. Keep trying with Mr Rogers.”

“Thank you.”

I left the physician's office with more questions than answers.

Mr Barnes noticed my disturbed air and stopped the car in the woods some minutes away from the house in the shade of the trees. He got back into the rear seat with me, concern on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Peggy,” I croak out. “She wasn't pregnant.”

There's a myriad of emotions I don't understand from him. Perhaps he feels betrayed she lied to him since they were close friends.

“I'm not sure I understand,” he says finally. “She....she fabricated a pregnancy? Why would she tell me that? Why would she write it down so Mr Rogers could potentially see it?”

“I don't know,” I stare out into the canopy of shimmering leaves, watching the sun peek through with each rustle. “I'm afraid I don't know a lot of what is going on.”

“Mr Rogers said something to you, didn't he? Before I intervened?” Mr Barnes is closer to me now.

“He confessed to murdering Peggy, said she provoked him with it. I have no idea what to believe though,” I hold my face in my hands.

“You can believe me.”

Steve's words should still be in my head but everything was so muddled. Mr Barnes had been the only man to be consistent in his approach to me. I knew he was trying to force apart my marriage for my own good and his assumptions about my husband had been true.

“James, what do I do?”

“Leave him,” he says quietly. “No matter if you listen to my reasoning or not, if you choose to take me with you or not, you are not happy.”

“Is that a good enough reason to dissolve a marriage?”

“Violating you, humiliating you, making you afraid of him? That is not what your husband should do. A husband should cherish his wife and aspire to give her the world.”

I couldn't sit in the car any longer. I got out, leaning against a nearby tree to try and breathe. It felt like my chest was constricting, like grief was crushing my heart.

“Ma'am?” Mr Barnes gets out too. “Ma'am, say you're alright.”

“I just....I needed air.”

“Come along, Mrs Rogers. It does you no good to delay and panic yourself more.”

He holds out a hand to me and gently steers me back to the car. I don't even protest when he reaches down to give me a soft kiss, I don't protest when the kiss becomes something more, I don't protest when he's leaning me back across the bonnet of Steve's automobile.

I needed something to ground me, to keep me from becoming a hysterical mess. I needed a man who would not fly into a rage at me, take out his past guilts upon me. I _should_ leave with Mr Barnes. He's protected me all this time after all, offered me a way out.

“Are you sure you want this?” his voice is hoarse, husky as my skirt is up around my waist and my undergarments are on the earthen floor. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you'll run away with me, be Mrs Barnes.”

“James, please,” is all I can manage, a broken shell in need of love to repair.

He eased into me, a low rumble in his chest as I clutched his broad arms. I was already past the point of no return, why not damn myself further? When he began a slow thrust into me, I cared about nothing else in this world. There was only me and him, alone and in each other's arms as he made love to me on Steve's car.

He was so much more considerate than Steve, so much more consuming. When Steve made love to me, there was an edge of passionate aggression that was easy to get caught up in but Mr Barnes....I had never experienced anything like him. Was it possible to say I could feel his affections for me in the movements? I never realised it ran this deep.

“So beautiful,” he mutters in between kisses.

And when we were spent, I felt a little more whole. Mr Barnes had brought back some of my lost vitality that Steve and his secrets had torn away.

“The end of the week,” I said to him. “I'll leave him at the end of the week...with you.”

I've never seen a more radiant smile, “Truly I am the luckiest man alive. I will make what arrangements I can.”

We drove back to Brooklyn Bay thinking our lives were much more sweet. What awaited us there, however, was anything but.

**  
  


Lawmen were in my home when I returned and I saw Steve frantically talking to them in the entrance hall.

I theorised for a brief moment that they might arrest him, that they knew but they simply tipped their hats and began to walk off. In my alarm, I ran over and Steve mistook my haste for concern, momentarily brightening at the sight of me but when the butler came in behind me, his expression soured a little.

“What's going on?” I ask.

“Peggy's boat,” Steve answered dully. “It washed up on the bay. They came to inform me I could bury her if I wished.You said you had to speak to me?”

“Yes, we'll do it in private,” you flash a meaningful look at Mr Barnes who nods and goes off to carry on his duties.

“Come into your study,” you motion him in and he follows, keeping a respectful distance.

“Steve, I went to see the physician today as you know-”

“-Did I hurt you?” his expression is pained.

“It wasn't for me,” I cut in quickly. “I spoke to Dr Banner. He told me Peggy was never pregnant. She had a tumour in her womb so that's why she couldn't conceive. She didn't have long to live before....”

I still couldn't finish that sentence, 'before you murdered her'.

“Why would she lie to me?” his face contorts into confusion. “Was it another way to be spiteful?”

“I don't know but it was false what she wrote in her diary.”

“Does this mean you believe me?”

“This means.....”

It was hard to say it. I couldn't force the words out of my mouth.

A knock at the door and Mr Barnes enters with the telephone, wires trailing from its point on the stand next to the door, “Call for you, Ma'am.”

“Excuse me,” I take the phone and he leaves once more.

“Is that Mrs Rogers?” comes the voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes?”

“It's Dr Banner. I've got your results back. You have nothing to worry about, you're actually _already_ pregnant. Congratulations and I'll see you again soon for a check up. Goodbye.”

“Darling, what's wrong?” Steve wants to come and hold me, I can see it in the twitch of his muscles but he refrains.

I hang up the receiver and swallow hard. This changed things. This changed everything. How could I run away with Mr Barnes whilst my husband's baby was growing inside me? I had always been taught and thought myself that it was cruel to separate a father from his children.

“You're worrying me. Please say something,” his quiet voice prompts me.

“That was Dr Banner,” my voice sounds hollow. “I'm pregnant.”

“You're pregnant and...you don't want me,” he looks at the floor. “That's what you were going to say before he rang, isn't it? Please don't take my child from me.”

“Steve, I don't know if I can forgive you.”

“You don't have to forgive me, just please do not inflict our discord on our baby. All I want is to see them, to help raise them.”

And I could believe that. All of Steve's actions had been about his desperation to have a family.

“I'll leave you alone now, I'm sure you would like to think,” he comes up closer, smiling sadly. “But I'm so happy. You truly have no idea.”

I could see it in his face and it tore my heart apart to see that man in Monte Carlo I had fallen in love with finally looking back at me. He reached out a hand to stroke my cheek before smiling at me and leaving the study.

I had to find Mr Barnes. This was important news I needed to discuss with him, only...I could not find him anywhere. I searched on the ground floor, the upper floor and in the garden but he was nowhere in sight.

I made for his room, the sole place in this manor house that I had not entered and knocked gently. When there was no answer, I tried the door and discovered it was open.

“Mr Barnes?” I call into the bedroom as I enter but he was not here either.

His room was impeccable as was the rest of the house and it appeared he read a great deal from the books by his bedside. It was cosy and quaint.

I would've turned and walked back out but there was something caught in the drawers that drew my eye. It was a piece of paper and I saw the tiniest sliver of Peggy's handwriting, the 'g' was very distinctive.

My curiosity got the better of me and I pulled it free noting the same word written again and again. _Pregnant_. When I opened the drawer further, I saw more papers with her handwriting and some that looked like they were attempts at it that slowly got better and better.

What on earth had I discovered?

I saw another diary, exactly similar to the one in Peggy's room and took it out with trembling hands.

_March 27 th_

_I cannot believe Mr Barnes overstepped his boundaries today. I've never known a butler so insolent but his hands wander over me and he expresses these as 'accidents'. I won't tolerate this behaviour from my staff. If Steve will not sack him then I will._

_April 11 th_

_Mr Barnes actually tried to blackmail me today. He stated if I did not give in to his incessant demands for affection then he would lie to Steve to force me to do so._

_May 1 st_

_I can feel myself becoming crueller. The pain I feel keeps my temper fraying and I know Steve is hurting from my vicious words. I cannot take this unbearable agony and Mr Barnes' threats. I have no patience any longer for anything and the joy is slipping from my life. What kind of wife am I to be barren, to be too afraid of my own butler to speak out?_

_May 23 rd_

_Mr Barnes violated me in the garden. He held me against a trellis and used his fingers to do wicked things and the shame I felt was so great that I hit Steve during an argument. Why can't I just escape him? Why is he doing this to me?_

_June 9 th_

_The only distraction I have left to me is antagonising my husband so much that he takes what he needs from me. It only adds to my pain but I would rather he fulfil his desires in anger than have to stop for fear of hurting me. This is the only way I know how to provide for him. Mr Barnes still takes his liberties when he wants them from me and I feel powerless to stop him. I have thought about jumping from my bedroom window and ending it many times as of late. I pray that God will give me a reprieve._

_June 30 th_

_A tumour, that's what they said. That is the reason I am barren, the reason I am in great pain daily. Dr Banner estimates I will not live to a ripe old age but would not tell me an estimate. I sink further into the blackness. No can help me. I have burned my bridges well and truly by pushing away those who love me most._

_August 25 th_

_I know I shall die soon, whether by my own hand or Mr Barnes'. Knowing I am living on borrowed time, I told him that I would be his puppet no longer. He threatened to tell Steve and in my anger I told him to do so but that I would be trying to rebuild my relationship with my husband before it is truly too late._

_My stomach swells with this disease and I shall have no option soon but to lie to Steve and say I am pregnant. It might be worth the lie to give him happiness, if only for a little while._

_Should I disappear before that happens, point your finger of suspicion at James Barnes. That man has ruined my life._

I stood there re-reading the diary and trying to take in how drastically different this version was. There was no reason for Mr Barnes to have this in his possession _and_ the other diary up in Peggy's room. With the practice sheets strewn around me, I knew then that Peggy's diary was a forgery and I was holding the real one in my hands.

Steve was right, Mr Barnes _had_ tried to seduce Peggy. Was I just another girl to practice on? Had he deliberately sabotaged my marriage and I had been too naïve to realise his greater purpose?

“Oh sweetheart,” Mr Barnes said from behind me and I dropped the diary in fright. “Oh I really wish you hadn't read that.”

I was trapped.


	9. The Secret Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out Mr Barnes' secret, how will you escape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter guys! Thanks for the all the kudos and comments <3 Much Love
> 
> Warnings: Non-con, violence, angst, death
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- NB

“What is the meaning of this?” I hold up the diary. “Was this a game to you? Were Peggy and I good sport?”

“You have to believe me, it's not how that happened,” Mr Barnes refuses to get out of the doorframe, blocking my exit.

“Why should I believe anything you say?” I hiss.

“Just listen to me!” he raises his voice and I cower at his bristling anger, wondering if I can climb out of the window in time or if he would catch me. “She writes as if I am some deviant degenerate but the truth was that I loved her. I loved her and it tore me apart to watch her waste her best years on _Steve Rogers._ I tried to make her see, to present myself as the better choice but she told me she was pregnant and I stepped back, I swear.”

“And what was I? Some consolation prize? Further revenge on Steve?”

“Revenge, to start with,” he admits openly. “But I didn't lie. You are so very unlike Peggy but....the more I tormented you, the more I craved you. I wanted to ruin Steve in the beginning, to destroy him utterly. We used to be great friends, can you believe? Then his mother married a rich man and suddenly I was lesser, I was nothing but a servant to him and he forgot where he came from, the alleys of Brooklyn, not the finery of high society. I just couldn't hurt you any more though. You are far too sweet, too innocent for that man and I would be a monster to let you stay. I mean when I say, I want us to run away together.”

“James, I can't,” I almost whisper.

He shuts the door behind him, locking it whilst never taking his eyes off of me before striding over and pinning me against the dresser with frenzied movements. He looks quite deranged.

“What do you mean, you can't? You said we would do this. We made love on your husband's car. What has possibly changed your mind now?”

“Doctor Banner, he said I was pregnant!” I try to wriggle free. “That's the telephone call I received!”

“No,” it's little more than a growl that sends a shiver down my spine. “No I shall not fall for this again!”

“I'm not lying!” I plead. “Ring Doctor Banner yourself!”

He searches my eyes desperately, seeing an answer he does not like before banging his fist onto the dresser so hard that it rattles behind me. There's a choked sob before he seems to compose himself and grabs my face in his hands.

“I do not care. I don't. I will raise your child as my own. Our plan can still go ahead.”

“Steve already knows. I can't take his baby away.”

“Damned if you can't,” Mr Barnes' grip gets tighter. “I shall not lose again to Steve Rogers. I _refuse_. I shall take what is his and make it my own, every single piece of it.”

He pushes me backwards onto the bed and I'm scrambling to flee but he launches himself upon me, yanking my skirts up with one hand and throttling me with the other. I have barely any breath left to fight as he undoes his trousers, no sentiment at all this time as he drives himself into me for the second time that day.

“Let me go!” I rasp around his crushing hand.

“Do you not understand?” his face is frightening in its reverence. “You have lain with me, you have renounced your husband and chosen _me_. You will be my Mrs Barnes and once his child is born, we can start on making our own. You. Are. _Mine_.”

“STEVE!” I try to scream but his hand chokes the noise before it becomes as such.

“How _dare_ you say his name when I am sharing myself with you,” Mr Barnes' eyes are glittering with fury as he ruts into me. “You will say mine! SAY IT!”

“J-Ja-James. Can't....can't breathe,” my head is swimming, the corners of my vision are tunnelling in and my arms flop uselessly onto the covers.

Was Mr Barnes really going to kill me for the sake of jealousy? For possessiveness?

All I can feel is my own heartbeat pounding in my head as Mr Barnes thrusts hard and I can do nothing to stop him, I can only lie there and hope I survive this.

“That's it, sweetheart,” he starts cooing like I was enjoying this. “We'll have some beautiful children and I'll buy us a farm where we can live out our days in peace. I can call you wife everyday from now on.”

With a low groan, he achieves his end, finally allowing me to breathe and I cough horribly, my throat aching. Instead of a minute's reprieve, he gathers me into his arms, rocking me as though I were an infant.

“I'm so sorry about that. I didn't mean to lose control. You will still run away with me, won't you? I couldn't bear it if you said no.”

“Of course,” I lie. “Of course, I was being silly.”

“You were,” he kisses my forehead and I feel nothing but revulsion now. “But it's over now.”

“May I go bathe? We have travelled such a long way today and I want to be fresh for dinner. This will be the last one we spend in this house.”

“Tomorrow? You want to leave tomorrow?” his face brightens.

I will say anything at this point to get me away from him, to free my path to seek Steve out. I need to swallow the rising terror I feel.

“Yes tomorrow, I need to be away from Steve's influence or I shall doubt myself.”

“Never doubt yourself, never doubt me. I shall look after you, provide for you. We shall have our domestic bliss away from this wretched place. Go bathe and pack yourself a bag in secret.”

He was that delirious in his obsession with me that he trusted I was not going to betray him. I got up carefully, kissing him to maintain my ruse before walking normally out of his room and up towards the stairs. I did not break into a run at any point, too scared he might hear from the floor below.

I went straight into the marital bedroom where Steve was reclining on the window seat, reading like he always does to take his mind off of his worries. He looked up expectantly when I came in but his face dropped to see my troubled expression.

“What is it, darling? Are you unwell?” he asks, setting his book aside.

I lock the door, crossing to him quickly as he stands up in alarm at my harried state.

“Mr Barnes just....just....”

“What, what did he do?”

“He just...violated me,” the tears just spill before I can catch them. “Oh Steve. He's insane! I found a diary of Peggy's in his room and you were right. He _was_ trying to seduce her. He blames you for her death and he has tried to punish me for your troubles.”

“James would never do something so heinous,” Steve is startled. “He may be wicked with his words but physical?”

“Then feel between my legs, husband,” I manage to get out. “See the damage he has done. Look at my throat.”

Steve's gaze flickers down as I pull the neckline away and he has an unobstructed view of the reddening there. When he gently lifts my skirts and feels the wetness at my thighs, I have never seen him look so broken.

“He...he did this to you?” he stammers. “James? My own butler?”

“Said you used to be friends and this was revenge.”

“Revenge? I gave him a job when no one else would!” Steve's face is flushing red with anger. “I could've left him to join the army and instead he tries to violate my wife? Both of them?! This is how he repays me for keeping a roof over his head when his own mother threw him into the gutter?! I shall kill him! I shall!”

Before I can stop him, he's opened the door and to my great horror, Mr Barnes is outside already, clearly curious about the commotion.

“You tricked me,” Mr Barnes says coldly. “After everything I did for you?”

Steve has already grabbed him by the jacket, pinning him against the wall, “What did you do, James?!”

“Do you really think you have the right to ask me that question, _murderer_?” Barnes spits back.

“You are the one who planted a false diary for Steve to find, knowing he might kill her,” I interject. “She wasn't pregnant, she was dying. She had a tumour in her womb.”

“What?” Steve's face pales. “She....she never strayed?”

“No, Steve, not because she wanted to. She was distant because Mr Barnes was blackmailing her into being unfaithful.”

“Perhaps,” Barnes snarls. “But you came to me of your own free will, Mrs Rogers. You let me do all manner of things to you willingly...in the study, on the car.”

“Do you think I didn't know?!” Steve punches Mr Barnes in the face. “Did you think I didn't know what was going on in my own house?! I _chose_ to ignore it, I thought if that was her decision then so be it. I would not make the same mistakes that I did with Peggy but it has become clear to me James that you destroyed her for your own amusement and _that_ I will not stand for.”

“Like _you_ did on the gala night?” Mr Barnes headbutts Steve so he reels backwards. “When you tore her dress to shreds and beat her? How can you say you treat her any better?”

They grab fistfuls of each other, fabric, hair, skin. I'm stood by the sidelines watching the monstrous display as they fight viciously.

“ENOUGH!” I yell but they don't stop.

Their faces become bloodied and I realise that they mean to kill the other. Should I intervene?

I run forward, trying to separate them, “STOP IT THIS INSTANT!”

James lands a heavy blow into Steve's stomach and Steve collapses to the ground, “You betrayed me, sweetheart. That's okay though, I know you'll make up for it soon. Let's go, huh? Let's start a new life.”

He's got hold of my wrist, dragging me out of the room as I cling to the doorframe in desperation.

“STEVE!”

My husband springs up, dashing to my aid as he tackles the butler into the wall and throws him towards the end of the corridor. Mr Barnes sprawls into the light fixture, breaking it and showering embers onto the curtain which starts to smoke. As he gets up to defend himself, the wind from the breeze outside is encouraging the embers to become flames and it's not long until the hem of the curtain is on fire.

I can do nothing as the two men twirl in a brutal dance of punches, bites and kicks until they're falling down the grand staircase and sprawling in a heap at the bottom. I don't know whether to put the fire out or stop the imminent death that will occur.

I chose the latter. A house can be replaced, a life cannot.

I fled down the stairs, almost falling myself as they grabbed items from the tables to use as weapons. Mr Barnes hit Steve in the face with a candlestick and he dropped to the floor.

“So sanctimonious and all the while I was making your wife make noises you never could,” Mr Barnes snarls. “You never cared for her the way I did.”

“I cared enough to let her go to you to make her happy,” Steve spits blood onto the marble. “Even when I had warned her against you because I knew you were rotten. As long as she was happy, I did not care. Even if that child is not mine, I do not care.”

“Admirable sentiment from a failure of a man. Can't even attend to his own wife's pleasures.”

Mr Barnes may be trying to belittle Steve but I found it more admirable that Steve would see me happy, even if it meant I strayed. That showed more strength than being able to draw moans from me.

I stooped down, helping Steve to his feet.

“You're really believing his lies? He murdered Peggy!” Mr Barnes roars.

“And she let him,” I hiss back. “Steve said she was laughing as he did it. She didn't fight back. She wanted an end to your reign of terror upon her, even if it was permanent.”

“LIES!” Mr Barnes takes a swing at me but Steve blocks it, lashing out and splitting Mr Barnes' eyebrow.

“Don't you dare hit my wife,” Steve growls.

I run to the drawer by the stairs, pulling Steve's revolver out of it and train it on Mr Barnes, motioning for Steve to follow me as I retreated backwards.

“I will shoot you if you move,” I warn him.

“After all we shared? You'd really kill me?” that old smug smile of Mr Barnes' comes back.

“You manipulated me, you hurt me...I was just a pawn.”

“To begin with, I have been over this but you're mine now. You gave yourself to me.”

“You took advantage of my marital struggles, you took advantage of my sadness. You are a spider, Mr Barnes and I was caught in your web of lies but no longer. Steve and I shall leave and fetch the lawmen and you will leave this place.”

“I'm never leaving and I'm not letting you leave either,” Mr Barnes bends down taking something from a holster under his pant's leg and charges at Steve.

In a haze, I barely see the knife going into Steve's arm until blood starts weeping down his pristine white shirt. In a panic, I shoot, my aim wildly off as I hit Mr Barnes in the leg, just above the kneecap.

He howls in indignation, crumpling to the ground as Steve grabs the revolver from me, shooting out Barnes' other leg.

“Now you won't be going anywhere,” Steve grunts through his own pain.

“He'll kill you!” Barnes screams at me as Steve leads me to the door. “He's done it once!”

“And what happens to me when some other woman becomes your obsession in this fantasy future of yours?” I glance over my shoulder. “You cannot help yourself corrupting innocence and wonder. Steve has learned from his mistakes but you will not.”

I help Steve over the threshold as he locks the door and I place him in the car so we can attend the police station.

I forgot all about the fire in the house.

By the time we returned, night was falling and the mansion was ablaze. Orange flickered against stark black, bathing everything in a warm glow but the screeching of the flames was accompanied by a screaming from the top level of the house.

Mr Barnes was in the window, crying for help. I assume he must have crawled back up the stairs to try and put out the fire but had become trapped.

We could do nothing though, the blaze was already in the lower levels and we could not enter the house. Either Mr Barnes jumped or he perished in the fire but it was a long drop.

Minutes went by of this macabre spectacle as we watched Mr Barnes panic, moving from window to window, looking to see if he could grab onto a vine or a lattice to help him escape. I could feel the heat burning my face from where I stood and imagined the sheer horror that the butler was experiencing right now.

The shrieking got louder and louder and Steve bundled me in his arms, shielding my gaze.

“Don't look. I've got you.”

Eventually the screaming stopped to be replaced by the sound of timber falling as the mansion started collapsing in on itself. Brooklyn Bay was destroyed forever but it would haunt me until my dying day.

“Steve, your arm,” I prompted after the upper level had entirely gone.

“I'm alright, I'm alright,” he kisses the top of my head. “It's goes towards my penance for your treatment.”

“I've not been kind to you either Steve. I broke our vows-”

“-it's forgiven,” he cuts me short. “You chose me in the end and I shall do all I can to never be that monster at the Gala. I want to be a better husband for you. Teach me everything that James did so I can please you better. I love you, my darling, I truly do. Always have.”

“The baby...it's not his,” I meet his gaze. “The only time I lay with Mr Barnes was today.”

“It's truly mine?” there's a glimmer of happiness.

“Yes, it's ours.”

“I will be better,” he's resolute and I believe him. “I swear it.”

“I know you will. So will I, husband.”

I will never again let myself be manipulated. Mr Barnes played his games with us both and nearly destroyed us but it had cost him his life and Steve and I would come out of this stronger. Without the butler's interference, there would be no more doubt and no more horrors.

The flames did not stop until noon the next day.

**

I awoke in a terror, dreaming of that night in Brooklyn Bay.

“My love?” Steve is immediately awake. “Are you alright?”

“I just....I had that nightmare again.”

“I'm here with you. You're safe.”

Five months since that terrible day and Steve and I were living in a more modest townhouse in Brooklyn. True to his word, the man I had met in Monte Carlo had returned to me and had stayed. He had also learned the skills Mr Barnes had used on me, his fingers, his mouth and that increased pleasure had led to more intimacy and that intimacy had led to a closeness we had lost along the way.

The baby brought us further together also and I would catch Steve speaking to my stomach as I slept, promising our unborn child that he would be the best father he could.

The spectre of James Barnes had left our marriage and finally I was proud to call myself Mrs Rogers once more.


End file.
